


Little Talks

by spaceconspiracy



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Eren is anti-hipster what a dork, M/M, One Shot, i didn't mean for this to take place in Florida it just kind of happened, its literally just starbucks?, this was originally gonna be multichaptered but now its just a one-shot sorry ilysm tho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-13
Updated: 2014-09-13
Packaged: 2018-02-17 04:23:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2296499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spaceconspiracy/pseuds/spaceconspiracy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eren looks up, caught off guard, at the guy behind the register - there’s a name tag pinned to the front of his green apron that reads <i>Levi</i> in scratchy, jagged handwriting. <i>Oh no </i>, Eren thinks as he stares at him. <i>He’s hot.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Little Talks

**Author's Note:**

> (Edit: 10/5/14: This was originally gonna be multi-chaptered but then I looked at it and went "nah" so it's just a one-shot sorry guys ily.)
> 
> Named after that song by Of Monsters and Men because I don't actually listen to indie and it's the only one I know.

Eren doesn’t actually _like_ Starbucks.

Starbucks is for the middle-class, and hipsters like Jean fucking Kirstchein, and he wouldn’t be caught _dead_ in one if he could help it. Really. Honestly. Except that one day Mikasa brought home a vanilla chai latte and told Eren he could finish it off, and, well, it was all over from there. It’s been haunting him ever since.

He has some excuses on the backburner for _why_ he’s willingly walking into a Starbucks right smack dab in the middle of town where anybody he’s even acquainted could easily see him. _Armin wanted a pumpkin spice latte_ , is his personal favourite. After all, everyone thinks they’re practically dating (they’re not). It wouldn’t be that far-fetched.

As expected, he walks in to the sound of vaguely indie music filtering from some hidden speakers, littered with the generic noise of people chattering and coffee brewing. He guess he can understand the appeal. But you won’t see him with a Macbook Pro and big, fake glasses hunched over in the corner any time soon. Probably. Hopefully.

Mikasa tells him he’s more pretentious than actual hipsters. He always pulls up Jean’s number when she says that.

The line for the ordering station consists only of three people, which is a sweet relief - Eren can be in and out before anyone sees him and his repuation can remain unscatched. Behind the counter, there’s only two people working - both far shorter than Eren himself, one of them is a pretty strawberry blonde, wearing a large smile as she hands somebody a strawberry and cream frappuccino (haha, not that he knows what that _is_ because he doesn’t frequent Starbucks. He totally doesn’t. This is only, like, his third time, he swears. Maybe the eighth.). The other is a particular bored looking guy with an undercut with a textbook open on the counter next to him as he rings up somebody’s order. Eren thinks there has to be some sort of rule against studying while working, but he really doesn’t have much room to talk, considering he’s always being scolded at by Mikasa for stressing himself out too much over his own schoolwork.

Eren scrutinizes the assortment of ridiculously expensive desserts behind the glass case as he waits for the line to move; he gets a little caught up in freaking out about the price for one slice of a cheesecake that he doesn’t realise it’s his turn until he hears an annoyed, “Can I help you?”

He looks up, caught off guard, at the guy behind the register - there’s a name tag pinned to the front of his green apron that reads _Levi_ in scratchy, jagged handwriting. _Oh no,_ Eren thinks as he stares at him. _He’s hot._  
  
“Oh, um,” Eren runs a hand through his hair, no doubt fucking it up more than it probably already is. He’s just so weak to pretty faces. “A medium-”

“The sizes are tall, grande, and venti,” Levi says with a careful exhale, like he’s trying very hard to keep his temper. Eren wonders how many times a day he has to correct people.

“Oh, sorry, a grande,” he squints at the menu board, earning him another bored sigh. “Chai tea latte?”

Levi rings up the order without comment, and after Eren clumsily hands over the cash, he’s caught off guard when Levi says, “Name?”

“What?”

“Your name,” Levi huffs, an empty cup in one hand, and a sharpie in the other.

“Oh. Eren.”

Levi passes the cup off to the other girl working and turns back his textbook without another word. He obviously doesn’t want to be bothered, and Eren really should walk away and leave him to his studying. Even just _ordering_ had seemed to ruffle all of Levi’s feathers, but he is awfully cute and Eren can’t just let that go. Chances are he’s not even into guys. He could always use the excuse _killing time while I wait for my drink_. He speaks up while he’s feeling brave, “Big test coming up?”

Levi blinks up from his textbook like he can’t believe Eren had the nerve to even breathe in his direction, let alone speak to him. “What.”

Eren points to the textbook; there’s a diagram of what Eren thinks is a set of lungs (it’s hard to tell with it upside down). “You’re studying really hard. I figured you had a big test, or something.”

Levi blinks slowly at him, and when he looks back down at his textbook, Eren thinks he’s gone ignored, until Levi says, “Yeah.”

“What for?”

“Anatomy.”

Levi’s not very forthcoming with information, and Eren’s quickly running out of things to say himself. He opens his mouth to ask another question, with the other employee calls his name, stilted like she’s unsure of it. Eren thinks he should say goodbye to Levi, who is still focusing heavily on his textbook, but backs out in the last second, going to collect his drink instead.  The girl - her name tag reads _Petra_ in flowery handwriting - hands him his latte with a smile; he smiles back, even though his name is written as _Aaron_ on the cup in the same jagged lettering as Levi’s nametag.

As he leaves, he sees Levi take out a highlighter to colour something in his textbook and decides that he’ll probably have to forfeit his reputation and actually come here more often if he wants to get any more information out of the cute barista behind the register.

(He realises too late that he ordered the wrong thing, and it’s not at all like what Mikasa brought home, so he’s stuck staring at a useless cup of coffee as he catches the city bus home.)

~X~

“Come inside with me,” Eren begs Armin, who is standing outside of the Starbucks and smiling at some text Horseface Kirstchein probably sent him. Not that he’s totally against Jean banging his best friend, he just doesn’t like it cutting into his Armin-time. They aren’t even dating yet and it’s like Jean’s hovering over their shoulders. Eren doesn’t know what he’s gonna do when the PDA starts. “Tell Jean to hold on, you have a pumpkin spice latte to drink.”

Armin rolls his eyes but pockets his phone anyway, adjusting the scarf around his neck. The weather’s cold enough for all of your usual winter gear, but here in the Sunshine State it doesn’t dip much further below 60 degrees Fahrenheit on a good day. That doesn’t stop Armin from wearing snowflake themed clothes. He doesn’t have the mittens on him, but Eren knows for a fact that they’re somewhere in his bedroom, just waiting to be put on in their “complete with matching scarf and knit cap” glory.

“I don’t even want one,” Armin sighs, but goes inside as Eren holds the entrance open for him. “Are you still on your ‘Starbucks is for hipsters’ thing?”

“Starbucks is for hipsters,” Eren reaffirms. “After all, you’re here.”

Armin makes a face at him. “I’m not a hipster.”

“Your iPod says otherwise.”

“Even so,” Armin huffs. “You’re the one that insisted we come here.” He glances towards the register - Levi’s there, just as Eren had planned (okay, _hoped_ , because he doesn’t actually know Levi’s schedule, but weekend afternoons seemed to be the safest bet). “Oh, that’s why.”

“Shut up,” Eren says, voice squeaky. He pulls his own hat lower over the tips of the ears which he can _feel_ turning red.  

“You should just ask for his number instead of stalking him.”

“I am _not_ stalking,” Eren says indignantly. “This is only my second time coming here.”

Armin raises an eyebrow.

“Okay, coming here while Levi’s here.”

“Oh, you know his name,” Armin says thoughtfully. “Interesting.”

“He has a nametag,” Eren defends, but Armin’s just giving him a side look and walking towards the register, leaving Eren stumbling after, ears burning beneath his hat.

“Hey, Levi,” Armin greets like they’re long time friends and Eren can feel his mouth falling open as he stares at his friend, caught entirely off guard. Now that’s just seventeen different kinds of unfair. Armin totally _played_ Eren. He doesn’t know if he’s angry or impressed.

“Coconut,” Levi nods, nickname falling easily off his tongue, and Eren wonders just how well they know each other. “Regular?”

“Yes, please,” Armin smiles, and then gestures at Eren. “This is my friend, Eren, by the way.”

Levi scrutinizes Eren, who feels like he’s under a microscope, and not entirely opposed to Levi looking at him at all. He’s so whipped and all he knows is the guy’s name. “Chai tea latte, right?”

“You remembered,” Eren says and the excitement in his voice is absolutely pathetic. Thank God Jean isn’t here.

“It’s my job,” Levi shrugs with one shoulder. Eren notices the lack of the textbook then and thinks maybe he should use it as a conversation starter, but he still can’t get over how easily Armin waltzed on up. A part of him is wondering if Armin could hook him up. But that’s probably getting a little too hopeful.

“Same thing?” Levi asks Eren. He sounds slightly less bored than last time. Eren counts that as a win.

“Actually,” Eren says, thinking about the wasted coffee last time. “Do you have, like,” he gestures vaguely with his hands. “A vanilla chai thing?”

Levi stares at Eren with the same look he gave him when Eren said medium, but this time around Armin swoops in for the rescue. “Same thing, except give him two pumps vanilla this time.”

“Hm,” Levi hums. “Props to your boyfriend for saving you from looking like an idiot.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Eren and Armin say in unison. Levi says nothing but quirks an eyebrow, and it could be him getting all hopeful again, but Eren thinks Levi’s gaze lingers on him just a fraction of a second longer.

Eren takes the liberty of paying for both of them, considering he’s the one that dragged Armin here in the first place, and they lean against the wall as they wait for their order; today, a tall blond guy with the name _Erd_ written on his nametag in capital letters is working, the look on his face as stoic as Levi’s. Eren turns to Armin once he feels like Levi’s out of earshot, “You didn’t tell me you were _friends_ with him.”

Armin rolls his eyes. “I’m just a regular,” he says. “I’m pretty sure he doesn’t even know my name.”

“Why does he call you coconut?” Eren wonders out loud. He also sort of wonders if Levi would give _him_ a nickname like that. Which is stupid. Eren is stupid.

Armin gives him a withering glare like the answer to Eren’s question is obvious. “Just ask him out, Eren.”

“I can’t just ask him out,” Eren sighs. “He’s probably not even into guys-”

“He is.”

Eren narrows his eyes at Armin. “How do you know?”

“One day he complained to me for ten minutes straight about his ex-boyfriend cheating on him with some guy with a weird nose, so there’s a good chance he’s at least bisexual,” Armin says easily, and Eren stares at him. He couldn’t even get more than two words out of Levi and Armin gets a whole, ten minute story. Unbelievable.

Armin ignores Eren’s stare as he goes to collect their drinks from Erd; _Coconut_ is written on his, and once again Eren’s name is spelled as _Aaron_. “How often that does that happen?” Armin asks as he hands Eren his drink.

“Too much,” Eren sighs. “So, you _can’t_ hook me up with him?”

“Just ask him out,” Armin says for the third time, a little too loudly for Eren’s liking. He hides his face behind his hand and tries very hard not to peek to see if Levi or even anyone is staring holes into his face.

“You’re a terrible friend,” Eren says to Armin in a harsh whisper, with no real heat in his tone.

Armin pats Eren’s arm sympathetically.

~X~

 

Eren decides he’s fallen in with the wrong crowd when he finds himself in the same Starbucks for the third time, this time with not only Armin flanking him, but Jean and his best friend Marco. Marco’s a nice guy and all, but he’s as much of a hipster as Jean, and if the jacket Armin’s wearing is anything to go by it looks like it’s contagious. Eren glances down at the _Muse_ shirt he’s wearing under his jacket and bids it an early goodbye.

Eren’s reputation is probably in the trash at this point, so he doesn’t even bother trying to keep his head low; at least not until he sees Levi who is looking both weary and somehow still incredibly hot. Eren never noticed before, but when Levi turns his head, he can see what looks like part of a tattoo creeping up over the collar of his shirt. The last thing Eren needs is his imagination to run wild with that one. Unfortunately it already is.

“Oh, that must be the guy you like!” Marco says innocently as he stands next to Eren. Eren makes a soft yelping sound and looks away from Levi quickly, turning his glare to Armin.

“You said something?”

Armin shrugs. Jean puts his arm around Armin’s shoulders and smirks at Eren, and Eren thinks that Jean is slowly poisoning his best friend. He should probably start praying for him now.

“He’s - attractive,” Marco says in that distant sort of, straight-guy way and Eren gives him credit for trying. “You should ask him out.”

“Baby’s too shy,” Jean says in an exaggerated toddler voice. Armin gives him a glance that probably should have been withering but isn’t in the _slightest_. The woes of being head over heels for a horse.

“I am not,” Eren snaps, sounding ridiculously childish, and his blush is all over his cheeks. “Look, I’ll go ask him out right now.” He takes about three steps before his own words register and he realises he’s just gotten himself into the biggest mess imaginable. This can go one of three ways - either he sucks it up and actually does ask Levi out, and Levi, heaven forbid, agrees and he gets to walk away victorious. That would be ideal. Most likely, he will ask Levi out and face rejection and have to do the walk of shame back to his table. The third option is that he chickens out and doesn’t do it at all, but he’d rather not have to do with Jean’s taunting for that one.

Down to two ways then.

He glances at Armin for support, who gives him a cheesy thumbs up. Thanks Armin.

Eren takes his sweet time walking to the cash register; Levi’s textbook is back, and he has a pen tucked behind his ear as he stares down at it, brow furrowed in concentration. Eren thinks he’ll get stress lines if he doesn’t stop. Eren clears his throat three times before Levi looks up at im. “Oh, it’s you,” he says, eyes skirting over Eren’s face. Eren wonders if his blush is that obvious. “Another vanilla chai latte?”

“Hey,” Eren starts, clearing his throat again. He’s a fucking loser, there’s no way Levi’s going to say yes. “Another test?”

Levi looks down at his textbook. “No.” He looks back at Eren. “What do you want?”

 _Oh god, I should just walk away. “_ Doesn’t your manager have rules about studying on the job?” he tries at a weak attempt at humour; it comes out raspy. Maybe he really could use a drink.

“I am the manager.”

“Oh.”

Eren stands there, shuffling on his feet nervously. Levi doesn’t remove his gaze from Eren’s face, which only makes his blush deepen. He twists his hands together and clears his throat again. It’s probably getting annoying at this point, he should stop. He does it again. “I was just, ah-” he runs his hand through his hair again. “I was just wondering if maybe you, ah, wanted to hang out sometime.” The last part comes out in a jumbled rush of letters and he begs that Levi understands him so he doesn’t have to repeat himself.

What Levi says isn’t what he’s expecting at all. “How old are you?”

“What?”

“How old are you.”

Eren blinks. “Eighteen.”

“Oh, thank God,” Levi closes his textbook. “I thought you were fifteen, holy shit. Yeah, alright.”

“How old are you?” Eren asks before he catches on to the end of Levi’s words.

Levi raises an eyebrow. “That’s a little rude.”

Eren frowns. “You asked me first.”

Levi looks like he’s going to say _touche_ but answers Eren’s question instead, “Twenty-five.” He tears a piece of paper out from the spiral notebook tucked under his textbook, taking the pen out from behind his ear to scrawl something across the scrap. He hands Eren the piece of paper. “Call me tomorrow. My roommate's planning this kickback, and I’d rather not stay there while everyone gets shitfaced. You can take me out somewhere. Nice shirt, by the way.”

“Oh-kay - ah, thanks,” Eren says awkwardly, staring down at the paper in his hand. Levi’s number is written on it in that same jagged handwriting as his nametag. It reminds Eren of something. “Hey, can I tell you something?”

Levi looks apprehensive but nods.

“My name is spelled E-r-e-n.”

Levi stares, and Eren smiles, and he thinks maybe he should be grateful for Jean Kirstchein’s teasing after all.


End file.
